The Red Door

A new beginning

Hey guys, this is my first update in ages but it's pretty long so I hope u enjoy it. This is a birthday update for my friends Rhiannon, Mackenzie, Sheila, Emma and Morgan. There is some very dark themes in this update so there is a trigger warning and I do encourage anyone that suffers with any mental illness to reach out and talk to someone. <3

There was a loud creak that broke the icy silence as Maria's unconscious, but alive, body drifted into the air filled with dust particles. My face was contorted with utter awe as I watched her lifeless body being pulled towards the roof by an invisible force. Blood flowed down the twisting stairs, trickling over each wooden plank in thick drizzles. Only  moments ago the house had descended into chaos, that was still easily shown from the rubble and debris left from the explosion. Maria's body continued to hang limp.

Her ebony hair whipped around her porcelain face even though there was the slightest of breeze. Curiosity filled me up as I began to cautiously walk around the house. Small trinkets lie around the house and the occasional family picture. Sat upon an oak chest were dozens of perfume bottles spread across the smooth wooden top of the chest. Scooping up one of the pink-purple bottles I sprayed a small amount of the sweet smelling liquid onto the groove of my vain on the pale, freezing skin of my arm. The smell suddenly took a violent turn and the atmosphere began to feel burning hot as purple flames spurted out of the cap of the open bottle. Awestruck and feeling my throat constricting I slowly began to fall to my knees as the flames grew up and up around me. Darkness began to creep down on me like a veil of night suddenly crossing the sun, there was a thud upstairs along with more bangs and clashes. A clouded figure emerged from the violet flames then oblivion closed in and everything went dark...
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I woke up but I didn't feel alive. An emptiness filled inside me as I cautiously walked through blank corridors of the town high school. Teenagers stepped past with vibrant smiles pasted on their faces, joking with friends and siblings. Everything seemed normal as I dodged crowds of people but no matter what no one saw me. Nor teens or teachers saw me gliding past dumbstruck. When I found one girl, a perfect replica of Maria in black tights and  in layer upon layer of woollen scarves and jumpers. She was not noticed she did not joke with anyone, she sashayed through the halls with a shy frown. Lugging her small bag around a corner she disappeared.

Piercing light seared into my eyes for a second then I was falling again.

This time I fell into a pristine classroom filled with chattering students. As soon as a tall, lean man walked into the room silence fell. Still invisible, I observed the class. Watching the man read from a frayed, paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet. A dark haired girl skulked into the room muttering an apology under her breath. She sat at a desk on the outskirts of all the others and took out a copy of Romeo and Juliet, journal and thin pen. Her eyes danced over the words already past the class by three parts. Pen in hand she opened her journal, revealing elegant writing...and dark pictures.
On each page was a long passage of writing, then in the margin pictures of twisting trees where sketched everywhere. Except at first glance they seemed like normal trees, between the trees there were outlines of girls hung. She began to write a new entry of the day. Her last words seared their way into my mind:
I feel everything, yet nothing. I'm noticed by few ignored by the rest. Who would miss me if I was dead anyway, no one is the answer. For goodbye cruel world, it hasn't been a pleasure.
I screamed, begging for anyone to hear me but I was silently screaming. I wanted someone to notice how suicidal Maria was, just like I knew she did. The bell soon rang and Maria lugged to her next lesson. Following behind, I trailed after her observing her every move. Instead of bustling off to her next class she headed off to the girls lavatories. Slipping in behind her, I watched as she stared at herself in the mirror tears rolling down stained cheeks. Lock clicking shut behind her Maria sat in one of the cubicles writing notes dedicated to her only friends and a note dedicated to her family about how they had let her down and that after what they had done to her would come back to haunt them in the end. Tears streaked the notes as she silently withdrew a coil of rope from her bag. Tying a noose from one of the lights and slipping the loop around her head she began to doubt her decision, hard, shallow breaths escaped her mouth as she tightened the knot. The notes scattered on the bathroom floor gave her more determination, as she eyed the notes and pictures covering the ground like abstract wallpaper. Illustrations and smudged ink became one as she then tightened the knot and thinking she could fly, she jumped. She jumped off her pedestal (the toilet) only to be restricted by the rope. I struggled to help her, trying to untie the rope, get her on the toilet again, just do anything!
Maria gagged and sputtered as she suffocated. Panic flooded me, I didn't know what to do until Maria's dead body hung limp from the roof. My translucent hands reached for her white, deathly face covered in streaks of deep ebony hair. After that, I waited for someone to find her, for someone to discover Maria's dead body. To pass the time I read through the notes plastered to the ground each was dedicated to a specific person but one that left me completely dumbfounded was addressed to everyone. Eyes scanning over the words, tears stung my eyes in pain.
To everyone,
Whether you be that popular kid that I have a crush on, the old lady down the street or my English teacher. You all impacted me, for  teachers, you saw me as no one except for that depressed girl that was neither smart nor dumb so you think me to be unnecessary. For  friends, only  some of you noticed me to the rest I was nothing but dirt you could all walk over. To family, I know you will like all that extra money you get to keep for yourselves and my fair more superior sisters, except now who can you yell at when times get rough, no one. You all cared, just none of you cared enough.
As soon as I read that letter, images of Maria crying late at night in a sea of bedsheets crept into my mind, just like i had done countless times. Lost in thought I didn't hear the squeaking sound of the door opening but not a single person could miss the chilling scream that followed. A brown haired girl with neat piggy tails had come into the bathroom to find the notes spread all over the grey tiles. Then above further inspection found Maria's dead body.
The police that were called, the paramedic that confirmed her to be dead, the brown haired girl that had a panic attack in the corner. Everyone, was scarred. The principal came in chilled to the core. Two girls one with fiery, auburn hair and the other a crisp chestnut. They collapsed to the floor, screams and wailing echoed through the whole school as the girls begged for Maria to just jump up and hug them, but that never happened.
The school had a memorial service a day later, acknowledging who she was and how beautiful a person she was. The two girls who saw Maria and two other girls one with silky, blonde hair and the other girl with chocolate coloured hair made their way up to the stage, tears rolling down their faces. I walked around row upon row of plastic chairs listening to each speech. Flowers of different types and colours created a spectacular rainbow below the stage. After, I chose to follow the four girls that spoke. They spent the whole day in the library for the counselling service. Teachers and students slumped around the desks and shelves of books, puffy-eyed, pouring tea and coffee from iron kettles.
Stabs of pain prodded my stomach as I remembered Maria's slim body falling through my hands. Traumatized, I moved to the place I had spent most of my time in this twisted nightmare, the girl's bathrooms. Fluorescent, yellow tape marked the drab blue door. Squeaking open, the scene looked almost normal. Cubicles clean and tidy, sinks sparkling white... except for the very last cubicle at the end of the room. Smudged pages spilled from underneath the door, creating a deranged pattern of words and cruel pictures. Treading lightly over the tearing layer of paper, my eyes darted up to see the dark shadow of the noose still hanging from the roof. Why did I have to see this, how did I get here, I though to myself. Sitting cross legged on the toilet lid, I sifted through each note looking for a clue or message how she could be alive, not where I am now but in 7 years time. Soon I gave up reading the depressing notes and walked into the warm corridor. Teachers embraced students in tight hugs, everyone walked around with dark, red eyes or with snuffling noses. In a second, all the events rushed through my head and it all made sense. I couldn't interfere because I was watching a past event and no one can change the past. Down the hall, there was one locker that was surrounded by vibrant flowers with notes from teachers, friends and one from the principal. My hope wavered and I questioned if she lied to everyone in those notes, but why would a dead girl lie? Understanding hit me like a brick wall, just like I had felt like in high school, she felt like no one cared. But a whole community cared, if only she could see that now. Cautiously, I walked over to the locker, ghosts of the past stumbling through me. But I didn't feel a thing. On the periwinkle blue locker, pictures of her with the four girls that spoke at the memorial were pasted onto the door.  There were pictures of her at school dances, face glowing with happiness, dressed in a beautiful sapphire, strapless dress. There had to be more to the story, although depression is a fickle bitch, it couldn't be enough. I had to investigate more, making my way back to the girls bathrooms, I was shocked to see the police line no longer there. Bashing into the door, nothing met my eyes except for a normal bathroom. The notes were gone, the noose was gone, everything. Slumping back outside, icy silence was sliced by hushed whispers. Kids and teachers were in classes, doors closed to keep in the noise, but there was no noise apart from the  occasional sniffle or  whispered it's okay. Rounding a corner, a paramedic talked to a young man. The man looked familiar, in between a sentence his head swerved and he looked straight where I was standing. Eyes digging into me, feet rooted to the ground, vulnerable to anything. But he turned to the paramedic and continued to talk in  whispers. My eyes were then glued to a black body bag sitting in the back of the ambulance. The connection happened in a millisecond as I remembered the husky voice telling me to move away from a dying girl, strapped to a chair like a feral animal.  Tiny whispers continued until the paramedic then turned to the scientist and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace.